


Things that Can't be Gift-Wrapped

by rosewiththorns



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Blowjob, Birthday Spanking, Birthday Surprises, Detroit Red Wings, Kissing, M/M, Spanking, Surprises, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 22:43:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4979470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewiththorns/pseuds/rosewiththorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Hank birthday, and Nik has a surprise or two for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things that Can't be Gift-Wrapped

“People give one another things that can’t be gift-wrapped.”—Nadine Gordimer

Things that Can’t be Gift-Wrapped

From the moment Nik sidled up to him as they walked into the Joe with a broad grin on a face that usually bore a morning scowl until he set skate on ice and instinctively cheered up at that liberating sensation all hockey players were obsessed with, Hank knew he was up to some sort of trouble. Since today was their opener against Toronto and they were sure to be deluged with a million questions they had already answered about Babs, he was not in the mood for dealing with whatever scheme Nik was about to put into action. 

“Happy birthday, Z,” chirped Nik, innocent as a bluejay. “What would you like on your special day?” 

“A win against Toronto.” Hank clutched his cup of Tim Horton’s so tightly that he was surprised the cap didn’t shoot into the atmosphere like a rocket. “Business before pleasure, Kronner.” 

Not that beating Toronto wouldn’t be a particular pleasure, but he didn’t plan on feeding the media frenzy by acknowledging that. 

“You’re so boring.” Nik nudged his shoulder and almost spilled Hank’s coffee over the pair of them. “Of course we’ll beat Toronto. That goes without saying. I mean, Toronto just shipped their best player downriver to score a billion goals with Crosby. How fierce a competition can they be, huh?” 

“You’re so—“ Hank rifled through his English vocabulary for a word that could accurately describe what made Nik so vexing when he was in one of these irreverent moods—“frivolous. Don’t talk like that in front of the rest of the team, at least.” 

“I’m not frivolous.” Nik rolled his eyes. “I’m just confident.” 

“Humph.” Hank snorted. “Two sides of the same coin.” 

Following this pronouncement, silence fell between them as they continued to make their way down the hallway, their footsteps echoing in the otherwise unoccupied corridor. 

“In here.” Abruptly, Nik grabbed Hank’s right arm and tugged so roughly in the direction of an empty meeting room that Hank nearly spilled his steaming cup of Tim Horton’s —still too hot to sip without scalding his tongue—down his front, and wouldn’t that be an awesome beginning for his birthday? “I’ve got a surprise for you.” 

“Haven’t you already given me one, Kronner?” Hank scowled as he shifted his coffee from his right hand to his left, so it wouldn’t make a mess while Nik continued to use his right arm to drag him into the conference room. 

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what my surprise was,” countered Nik, his blue eyes twinkling like the Great Lakes on a sunny spring day as he shut the door and locked it behind them. 

“Was that really necessary?” Hank arched an eyebrow as he set his coffee cup on a silver coaster to prevent it from staining the maple table. 

“You’ll want to receive my birthday gift in private, Z.” Chuckling at something that would probably only be amusing to him since Nik was one of those beings who imagined he was wittier than he was, Nik sauntered over to the windows to pull down the blinds. 

“That sounds rather—“ Hank fumbled for an appropriate word as Nik came back to him and placed a warm, strong hand on each shoulder—“ominous, Kronner.” 

“Well—“ Nik was playful as a puppy as he pushed Hank into one of the scarlet leather chairs circling the conference table—“you will probably want to be sitting down for it.” 

Then, before Hank could begin to guess what mischief was running through Nik’s maniacal mind, Nik had slipped to his knees before Hank. 

“What are you doing?” Hank’s question was punctuated by a gasp as Nik’s palm reached out to stroke the crotch of his pants. 

“Giving you a birthday blowjob.” Nik’s fingers danced over the buttons on his trousers, and Hank could feel his cock stiffening and his balls tingling as each one opened. Once every button had been undone, Nik slid Hank’s pants along his hips and thighs to rest around his kneecaps, exposing white briefs with a bulge. 

Nik rubbed his hand along the length of Hank’s dick, creating a friction with the cotton fabric that made Hank’s skin as electric as lightning. When a groan trickled from his lips, Nik grasped his balls and squeezed—not hard enough to hurt but forcefully enough to seize Hank’s attention along with them. 

Eyes fixed sternly on Hank’s flushed face as he used Hank’s balls like stress balls, Nik admonished, “It’s not time for you to even think about coming yet, Z. We haven’t even started your birthday blowjob.” 

“Hurry, Kronner.” Hank’s tongue flashed out of his mouth to dampen lips that felt as dry as a teetotaler during Prohibition. 

“You’re being a brat.” Tutting, Nik teased Hank’s briefs down to just above his trousers. “That reminds me, though, that I haven’t given you a birthday spanking. A birthday spanking must come before a birthday blowjob. It’s like a law of the universe or something.” 

Before Hank could stutter out any kind of reply to this assertion, Nik delivered a light swat—more like a pat—to Hank’s throbbing penis. The taps traveled the length of his shaft and then ventured over to his balls, where they were simultaneously more agonizing and arousing. 

Lost in a sea of sensations with waves of pleasure emanating from his groin, Hank couldn’t count how many spanks Nik administered, but Nik apparently had no such problem, because he murmured, “That’s thirty-five, Z. Now just one more to grow on.” 

With no further warning, Nik landed a sharp slap on Hank’s balls that caused him to cry out either in protest or in ecstasy—everything was too muddled inside Hank for him to be sure of which. 

“Did that hurt?” crooned Nik, his tongue flicking out to caress Hank’s penis. As his mouth moved to massage Hank’s balls, Nik added, “I’ll kiss it better.” 

After that, neither of them said anything as Nik’s tongue tickles and teased Hank’s cock and balls. The meeting room was a heaven where his moans and the moist noise of Hank’s mouth whenever it escaped or returned to Hank’s dick replaced the hallelujah chorus and strumming harps of angels while he floated upon a cloud of leather instead of pearly-white fluff. 

It was both too soon and too long for a body craving release yet not wanting to let go of anything about this divine experience when Hank came, bliss squirting from him in the form of semen. Reflexively, he closed his eyes as the spasms accompanying ejaculation tore through him, but he opened them in time to see Nik swallow every drop of the liquid Hank had poured into his mouth. 

“What did you think of your gift?” Nik asked with lips that seemed almost bruised from the perfect pleasure they had offered Hank. 

“It was much better than a shaving cream pie to the face, Kronner.” Smiling and ruffling Nik’s hair, Hank bent over to kiss Nik first on the lips and then along the tongue, tasting the saltiness of himself deep inside Nik’s mouth and feeling like they were forever linked because of that.


End file.
